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Well. There is no back.

“Let’s go party!” Chiara calls, grabbing her bag.

“Hey, guys, just a second. I need to put my sandals on.”

I walk over to my bed and bend down to grab them.

Behind me, someone sucks in a breath.

I straighten and look over my shoulder.

What the…

Jude.

His eyes are very clearly on my bare back, and he's not smiling anymore. His gaze travels slowly up my spine before reaching my lips.

Oh.

For one second, neither of us moves. Then his eyes snap to mine like he's just realized he's been caught, and heat rushes straight into my cheeks.

What is happening here?

“Is this too much?” I reach behind me in a useless attempt to cover myself, suddenly conscious of every inch of exposed skin. “I mean, the fair is on the beach, so I thought…”

Jude doesn't answer. I'm not entirely sure he's hearing me. His jaw tightens, and I watch his throat move when he swallows.

Oh God.

“Maybe I should change.”

I turn towards the wardrobe, but before I can take another step, Jude crosses the small distance between us and catches my arm gently.

Every thought in my head disappears.

“No.”

His voice is lower than before, almost hoarse, and my heart does something stupid.

I turn around to find him standing right behind me, too close for me not to notice exactly how much bigger he is than I am. My eyes land somewhere around the middle of his chest before I lift them to his face.

His pupils are wide enough that only a thin ring of green remains around them.

“Keep this.”

“What?”

“The dress.”

His hand is still on my arm, warm and calloused, and his thumb moves once against my skin.

Probably accidentally. Definitely accidentally.

My body apparently doesn't care.

“You’re…” He stops, his gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before he looks away and I feel the loss of his hand on my skin as he runs it through his hair. I've noticed he does that when he's nervous.

For a man who already uses very few words, he suddenly seems to have lost every single one of them.